Maps
by Magpie.in.the.Rain
Summary: When conflicting reports come from Tortall's borders bringing news of intrigue and hints of war, Jonathan sends out Numair and Daine to verify which information is accurate. When Daine stops sending reports, it's a race to try and find her. When they finally do, the information she has to report turns peace into war, bring the dead back to haunt the living. More in depth in profile


Author's Notes:

Hey guys! I'd like you to read my first posted story. I'll be posting more stories soon, but with Tamora Pierce getting ready to publish Numair's book trilogy soon, I belted this out; an idea I entertained in my teenage years when I first read the Immortals Quartet. This took me about a week to write and edit, and I may edit the part with Sarralyn. I just couldn't get it in a way that I liked. I'm going to be a bit busy here the next few weeks with a friend's wedding, so don't expect an immediate update.

"words" humans talking

'words' The People talking

 _Past events/memories_

Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

WARNING: animal abuse-breaking to saddle, bit reference -graphic- (http: slashslash www. think like a horse images2 /bits percent sign twenty cruel .jpg ), horse breeding (forced),

* * *

 _Veralidaine Salmalin, known simply as Daine to her friends, glanced up from reading an anatomy book on reptiles when she heard the door open. She had come in early from her duties when the cold came with the dark. Winter was going to be early this year. She smiled in her reading as her husband closed the door with a soft swear. Numair Salmalin removed a heavy cloak and shook himself, immediately coming towards her as she had moved both their sitting chairs nearer the fire where she was laying on the hearth rug. Sitting down in the chair he usually claimed, the tall man sighed._

 _Marking her place before looking up and closing her book, the wildmage looked at her husband. He was holding his head in his hands the way he used to during the war. Curious, Daine sat up and scooted over to where the black mage was sitting. Resting her head on his knee, she frowned when the action made him jump._

" _What's got you so in your head, Numair?" she asked, tucking a loose curl behind her ear that had escaped her headscarf. Numair snorted and pulled his hands down his face only enough so when he spread his fingers, he could see her. Daine smiled at his antics before reaching up and taking his hands in her own to bare his face. Numair smiled and sighed_

" _I had a meeting with George and Jon tonight," Numair replied. He sighed, running his hands through his hair before down his face. Giving her a tired, smile, Numair took one of her hands before saying, "there are some troubling reports coming out of the North."_

" _Troubling?" Daine asked._

 _Before Numair could respond, a loud wail echoed through their rooms, making the mage wince. Daine smiled at Numair's discomfort and put out look. Standing up, Daine patted imaginary dust off her breeches before heading towards their bedroom. "Sarralyn's up and prob'ly wants a feed."_

" _I don't think I'll ever get used to that."_

 _Daine gave him a loving smile as she teased, "Never saw it coming?"_

 _Numair's expressing grew wicked as they entered the bedroom. "Well, there was this blonde—"_

 _Daine threw a pillow at his face before he could finish his sentence and grabbed Sarralyn so he couldn't' retaliate. Smiling at Numair, who was holding the thrown pillow with a betrayed look on his face, she turned her attention to her daughter._

 _Numair smiled, treasuring the moment he'd never thought he'd have. His smile faded, thinking about what George had told them as Daine tidied Sarralyn up and put her back to bed. When it was just the two of them, entwined as they do to fall asleep, assured the other is there, Numair sighed into Daine's hair before softly saying, "There are troubling reports from the North."_

" _So you've said," his wife whispered back._

 _Numair ran his fingers along her side, eliciting a delightful shudder from his wife. Trying to keep him focused, Daine grabbed his hand and held it, waiting for her husband to gather his thoughts._

" _The reports Jon is getting are nowhere near what George's people are reporting back," the black robe mage finally said._

 _Daine frowned, absently playing with Numair's fingers. That wasn't good. Discrepancies were never good. "So's whose reports is right?" she asked, falling into her Gallan drawl. He didn't respond for a while, letting her play with his fingers and just relishing the moment._

 _Quiet moments like this were new to them. With Daine's life being turned upside down into a war almost from the beginning, and Numair never really leaving one with all the espionage he did for Jon, the two most powerful mages of Tortall relished each chance of peace and quiet in togetherness that they could get._

 _She didn't fight when he pulled his hand away to rest over her waist._

" _That's what they want us to find out."_

* * *

The snow was deep and the Stallion had led them to a clearing that, in warmer weather, would probably be filled with sweet flowers. Now, in the middle of winter, it had less snow than the surrounding area due to the thick tree branches that overhung it from the forest. Snow Mask snorted, the air misting in front of her face. A lot of her herd mates were complaining about their pregnancies and she snorted again. She had been one of the few, but the most vehement, that had denied the Stallion his rights as their protector. He would have had trouble anyway; she was much taller than he was.

One of the few pale duns in the herd, she was surprised for their territory was at the foothills of the mountains that saw more winter than any other season. One would think that more duns and dapple grays would be prevalent to blend in with the snow. Something in her said she was in the North, but at the same time that something faded as she shook her head. She was a horse! Horses didn't have thoughts like those.

Pawing at the snow, she dug herself a hole to eat at the tender grass the snow was hiding. The winter had been mild, the other horses said. They didn't have to dig far for the tender grass. They loved this as most of the herd was pregnant and carrying in the winter was bothersome. While they were excited, it was hard to dig for grass. All their thick coats helped keep them warm. She shook herself. She didn't like her strange thoughts and set to digging another hole in the snow. If she was lucky, she'd find a clover patch.

'You denied him again, Snow Mask?' a mare asked.

She looked up to see Hates Clovers, a pretty perlino dun. The other dun was almost as pale as she was, but had a wide white blaze down her face instead of a mask like she had. Where the blaze covered her right eye, Hates Clovers had a bright blue eye while the other was a darker blue. The other was a seemingly iridescent cream color with tall white stockings that mimicked her black dun marks. Snow Mask's white mask made both her eyes a dark blue that faded to almost silver at the edges.

Snow Mask shook her head. Hates Clovers snorted a laugh. 'He's the king, but he's old and has all the issues that come with age. I know some of the other mares find it fetching, but Honey Blossom always complains after he's done with her.'

Hate's Clovers laughed. 'I'm just not ready for rearing foals yet. Maybe my next season or the one after...'

Snow Mask snorted.

'What?' the other horse asked as she ate a mouthful of grass.

'You ever feel you're supposed to be somewhere else or with a different herd?' Snow Mask asked as she shook herself of some snow that had fallen from a tree branch.

Hate's Clover thought about it for a moment. 'I used to until I found this heard.' She cropped another mouthful of grass. 'There was this sense of longing and not belonging. So I left my other herd in the night while they were sleeping. It helped that our stallion was mean.'

'Mean?'

Hate's Clovers gave her a sidelong look. 'He liked to mount a mare whenever he felt like it whether she was in season or not.'

Snow Mask gave her an astonished look.

Hate's Clovers nodded and went back to her patch of grass. Snow Mask followed shortly thereafter. Hopefully spring would come soon so they wouldn't have to dig anymore. That much she agreed with her herd about.

* * *

" _I need to ask a favor of you."_

 _Daine set her teacup down. Now that she was weaning Sarralyn, she could enjoy it almost as much as she had before she had got with child. The statement, for kings did not ask their subjects if they wanted to do a task, was expected. Not that Jon, or Thayet, would ever force someone into something they couldn't accomplish. It didn't mean that she wanted to do it, though._

" _What is it?"The wildmage politely asked._

" _I need information and Numair can't be in two places at once," Jon started, pausing, a wistful expression briefly crossing his face as if he wished Numair was able to do so. If it was possible for him to do that, she'd be first in line. "I need you to scout our border at Galla."_

 _Galla; the place brought up bad memories for her. Frowning, she took another sip of tea. She could have stayed in Snowsdale. Gods know, Hakkon Falconer had spoken to her mother about her once or twice. Gods knows his falcons had loved her. Instead, after the fire and her madness, she had packed a rucksack with what she could, went to_ _Cr_ _í_ _a, had adventures and got married. Returning home was the last thing that had ever crossed her mind._

" _Sarralyn is still young," Daine started, trying to think of a way to get out of it._

" _Thayet has offered to care for her."_

" _Oh?"_

 _Jon sighed. "There have been complaints near the border of Galla," the king continued. "I can't trust my fief lords to tell me the truth." A dark frown crossed his face. "I don't believe I've had the truth from them in a great long time."_

" _You do know it's fall and I may not be able to get back till spring?"_

" _Your magic was taken into consideration—"_

" _Magic don't do no good during a blizzard!"_

" _Doesn't do any good, Magelet," came a tired reply from the door._

 _Daine turned to see her husband standing in the doorway probably feeling as tired as he looked. The king had been sending him to all over Tortall scouting while George's network brought in more information. She considered Jon's request while Numair gave his report. She didn't want to do it, and kept mulling over the king's request. Daine knew that if she didn't go, Numair would probably be sent. She kept coming back to one thing that Numair had told her years ago: the black robe mage passionately hated the cold._

 _Daine sighed. Both men stopped talking._

" _I'll do it, Jon," the wildmage said, refilling her tea. "I'll scout up North."_

 _Numair gave Jon a look._

 _Daine smiled, sipping her tea, as Numair returned his attention to Jon; this would be an interesting conversation..._

* * *

It was spring again; the second spring for Snow Mask with this herd, and the Stallion's lordship over the herd was being contested. A young, leggy dapple grey was contesting their king, an older sorrel. He was very handsome, a dark dapple grey Snow Mask hadn't seen before. She whickered, confused. She had never thought like that about any of her herd members before. She watched along with the rest of the herd, most of which had delivered their foals already. They nursed as their mothers watched as their Stallion battled with the Challenger.

The Stallion trumpeted his anger at the situation. 'How dare you!,' he cried. 'How dare you, Young Upstart, dare think to take his herd? I fought hard for years to steal and battle for my wonderful mares!'

The Challenger neighed his disdain, calling their Stallion out. 'And what am I doing?' the Challenger called. 'How dare you call me out for what you yourself, a King Stallion, had once done in my same position? How dare you judge!'

They fought for two days, barely breaking apart to relieve themselves and drink some water from a nearby stream. When the Challenger kicked the Stallion in the side, knocking the wind out of the older pony, there was a reverberating crack throughout the clearing. The mares whickered at the crack, knowing their Stallion wasn't going to win. The Challenger bit at the Stallions neck, and the protests he put up couldn't dislodge him. It wasn't too much longer that the Stallion left to the Divine Realms, and the Challenger became their Stallion.

He reared, proclaiming to all, that he was victorious and owned a herd now. Hooves clawing at the air, he landed with a huff; shaking out his mane. The mares of the herd trotted forward to greet their new Stallion and introduce their foals. He politely greeted them and accepted their foals; he had every right to kill them and the mares were happy that he didn't, and had accepted them as his instead.

She looked on, watching the foals play as the Stallion mounted some of the mares that had older foals that were close to season. It was when he was about to mount another mare that he saw her. He gave the mare platitudes before moving off to her.

'How pretty you are', he told her as he showed off for her; prancing around her. 'Would you like me to show you what I think of you?'

She snorted as he rubbed his head along her back. 'No.'

He froze, surprised. She flicked him with her tail and trotted away to the other side of the field. He watched her go, surprised at the denial. No mare had ever denied him, even when he was a thief mounting mares of herds not his own. He snorted and went back to the mare he had left to see her. She more than welcomed him.

When he had finished, he looked across the clearing at the two mares there. Both would eventually warm up to him. By the Horse Lords, he _would_ have them. Excusing himself, the dapple stallion moved on to the next mare.

Snow Mask looked up, ears swiveling around. She thought she had heard something. Looking at the herd, she saw their Stallion mounting another mare who she knew was in season and prone to throwing twins. Snorting, the dun turned her attention to the forest around her. She thought she saw something move, but when she looked closer, there was only disturbed flora.

Shaking the odd feeling of being watched off, she went back to her clover patch, unaware that someone was running through the woods back to their own family.

* * *

 _Daine was packing her saddle bags when Numair opened her door and leaned in the door way. He looked better than he had the day he returned, having slept the two days between then and now. She was going to leave under the cover of darkness, and Alanna had already spelled Cloud to look like a chocolate palomino earlier in the day._

" _You'll have to call her Sky or Storm," Alanna had suggested as they were getting ready to go to lunch. "Everyone knows your pony is named 'Cloud'. With the disguise you'll be receiving from Numair when he wakes up, we'd hate to have your cover blown from your mount."_

" _What did you both decide to call Cloud?" Numair asked._

" _We decided on Storm," Daine replied as she turned to look at the black robe mage. "Here to give me my disguise?"_

 _Numair smiled at her tone before continuing into her room and taking her into a hug. Daine smiled and laid her head against his chest, listening to his heart beat. They stayed like that for some time, before Numair pulled away but still held her in his arms._

" _I hate that you're going," he finally said._

 _Daine smiled and quipped, "You always hate when we're apart."_

 _Numair returned her smile, saying, "The unfortunate circumstance of being Tortall's two most powerful mages."_

" _You'll write?" Daine asked. "I can ask a sparrow or a hawk if they wouldn't mind taking a message—"_

" _Write me first, Magelet," Numair cut her off. "I'm sure you'll find a bird more easily in the North that would prefer flying to the South than the other way around."_

" _You're right," Daine said as she stepped away from Numair to continue her packing. "Much as it pains me to say that."_

 _Numair laughed. "You've been spending too much time with Alanna."_

 _Daine stuck her tongue out at him in a fit of immaturity, but shrieked when Numair lunged at her and started to tickle her. Trying to escape in vain, Daine finally said between peals of laughter, "Numair! I need to finish packing!"_

" _What about my farewell, Sweet?" Numair asked, a devilish smile on his face, pausing in his tickle attack._

 _Daine, catching her breath, pretended to be deep in thought. "I suppose I might be able to muster an adequate farewell for you."_

 _Feigning hurt, Numair fell onto the bed she was arranging and packing her belongings on. "Mi'Lady! How you wound me!"_

" _Player," Daine accused._

 _She followed him onto the bed, grin matching his, as they bid each other farewell long into the night._

* * *

There was something wrong. Something was very wrong in the woods. The others were grazing with their minds on their pregnancies and their fillies and colts playing around them. With Hates Clovers and Snow Mask constantly denying their stallion's advances, he was sulking on the other side of the glen they were grazing in and not paying attention to the surroundings. Hates Clovers was cropping grass closer to the very pregnant mares to help watch the youngsters. Snow Mask picked her head up, chewing her mouthful of grass. Ears swiveling around, she tried to catch the odd noises.

There!

Snow Mask swung her head to the right and came face to face with a surprised pair of blue-hazel eyes. The creature, a two-legger, did something with his hands and something settled over her head. Startled, she threw her head back only to find that her motion was hindered. She reared and screamed, but it only tightened the thing around her neck, making her buck.

The whole herd froze.

The Stallion looked in her direction. Hates Clovers whickered a question.

Movement exploded from the edges of the tree line. More two-leggers than she had seen before had something in their hands that they were throwing over the heads of her herd mates. Their stallion trumpeted a challenge as he chased some of them, dodging the things they threw. He managed to round up most of the herd and take off up the goat trails they had used to get to the clearing. A few youngsters, Hates Clovers, herself, and a few yearlings were captured.

If they were going to take her, Snow Mask thought to herself, she was not going to go quietly.

The dun screamed a challenge to the two-legger holding her rope and started fighting. She pulled back on what she hazily remembered as a rope, dragging the two-legger slowly toward her. When all that accomplished was choking her more than ridding herself of her problem, she ran at the two-legger holding the rope.

Something else fell over her head and she reared, trumpeting her displeasure, only to find that she couldn't. Her head was being held down!

'No!' she cried. 'I'm not going with you!'

The two-leggers and her herd mates alike were startled when birds started diving at all the two-leggers in the area. Squirrels started chattering, raccoons and foxes screamed. Startled insects fell on the two-leggers heads. Terrified, they began to fight in earnest to get the horses calmed and tied; afraid a forest spirit was coming.

Hates Clovers was also putting up a fight, but when a second rope looped over her head, she followed Snow Mask's example to fight. She heard the frightened and confused mutters of the yearlings and youngsters and those only spurred her on. An instinct she didn't know she had drove her to protect.

Snow Mask screamed again and before Hates Clovers could see what happened, her sight was suddenly gone. Freezing, momentarily stunned, the brief moment of her indecision was all the two-leggers were looking for. She felt something around her hooves and she kicked out, only to find herself on the ground. She neighed her defeat.

'We can't win this, Snow,' Hates Clovers called between heavy breaths.

'I will not give up!' Snow Mask bit back. She heard a two-legger curse.

Hates Clover's sight was suddenly returned. She had something around her face and her hooves were still cobbled. She glanced over at Snow Mask to see her sides streaked with sweat, her hooves also cobbled. Hates Clovers watched as two-leggers kept trying to put the same thing around her face, but Snow Mask would bite or try to if another two-legger yanked on the rope still around her neck. She would try to kick only to find herself on the ground breathing hard and getting up as fast as possible before the two-leggers could put the contraption on.

She felt something run down her neck and startled, only to see a two-legger petting her. His lips moved, but she was too scared and tired to make out what he was saying. A hard pat had the two-legger with all her attention.

"Soon as she gets tired, we'll be taking you all back ta the village," he was saying. "Fair in Cria is soon and our village needs the money. I'm fair sorry you was mixed up. You're such a pretty thing."

Well, flatterer, Hates Clover thought. At least he could appreciate her. The palomino mare watched as her dun counterpart fought through the birds, almost seemingly directing them at the two-leggers. When that didn't seem to work, she charged them herself.

It took a while before Snow Mask tired out. The two-leggers just let her fight until there wasn't any more left. Her flanks were soaked with sweat and she was covered in all matter of detritus one can find on the forest floor; there were leaves and sticks in her mane, mud and dirt all over her coat, and grass and loam stuck to that. As Snow Mask was walked by her, Hates Clover's caught a sight of burrs in her tail.

The other forest creatures watched from their hiding places, disappointed they couldn't have helped the horses to freedom.

"Wanna see if she'll take a bit and saddle?" one of the two-leggers proposed as they walked down a path. He was leading Honey Blossom's twins, Hollyhocks and Dandelion, yearling stallions she had had the year previous. "She's tired enough. May get more money for 'er other than just her color."

It didn't take long to return to the two-leggers' camp where some horses and ponies were picketed. They gave the newcomers an eye over, not knowing the sense of freedom that had just been taken away from them, stable bred as they were. Soft greetings whickered around the camp. The youngsters flocked over to them, needing the reassurances older horses naturally provided.

Hates Clover watched as a two-legger threw a blanket and saddle over Snow Mask, not even bothering to remove the dirt and detritus from her coat. The filthy mare didn't notice the weight of the saddle with how hard her breathing was and how tired from the fight she had put up. Snow Mask did notice when the girth strap was tightened. Hates Clovers watched as with every tired breath Snow Mask took, the two-legger tightened it.

When it was decided the saddle was tight enough, a brave two-legger grabbed the pommel and the cantle before jumping up and seating himself in the seat of the saddle proper. Snow Mask stood for a minute, expression blank. When the two-legger repositioned himself and dug his heals into her sides, Snow Mask exploded into action.

Bucking and twirling, Snow Mask threw the two-legger from her back almost as fast as he had seated himself on her. With the other two-leggers laughing at their unlucky companion, he picked himself up, swearing all the while as he rummaged through the horse supplies, coming up victorious with a bridle that had a cruel looking bit.

"Le's see how ya take a bit, lass," he said as two other two-leggers made for Snow Mask's head. Between them, another volunteer and tying her ropes around a tree, the two-leggers managed to get a halter and bit in her mouth. The cold metal distracted her as yet another two-legger jumped into the saddle. She noticed when he yanked on the reins, jamming the bit into the soft tissue of her mouth and pinched her sensitive tongue. Screaming, Snow Mask reared, bucking and twisting; galloping only to suddenly change directions.

She finally threw him, spinning as she bucked.

Chest heaving, the mare gave the rider a dirty look as she flicked her tail, foam and spittle running down her neck in great globules from the bit.

The night continued on like that; the two-leggers forcing the other horses to watch as they broke their most spirited herd mate. Warning what would happen should they fight. Hates Clovers and Hollyhocks put up a token protest when the two-leggers placed a saddle on their backs and girth straps tightened, but calmed when they threatened the same bit and treatment as their herd mate was experiencing.

Snow Mask still fought it.

Dawn was breaking by the time the two-leggers could finally ride Snow Mask calmly around their camp. The mare was still quite spirited, the two-leggers having to resort to full tack with a tie down, throat latch and breast band, never giving the spirited animal a chance for her head to take control. They had had to lash a spare rein around her delicate nose so she couldn't spit out the bit.

Hollyhocks, Dandelion and Hates Clovers kept their spirit as they resigned themselves to saddles and two-leggers on their backs. They watched as the two-leggers removed their tack, brushed them down, and went to sleep in their bed rolls. The two-leggers that had tried to ride Snow Mask just picketed and hobbled her to a nearby tree; leaving all the tack on and her face still tied up.

'You should have just given in,' a bay picketed pony responded. 'My ma watched my da put up a fight like you.'

'Oh?' Snow Mask responded.

'I'm Gossham,' the bay replied, obviously changing the subject with an uncomfortable shake. Hollyhocks and Hates Clovers replied in kind as Snow Mask blew hard and tried to catch her breath. Dandelion did his best to ignore everything and try to fall asleep. 'You all are lucky being going to the Fair and all.'

'They mentioned that,' Hollyhocks said as he cropped some nearby grass.

'They may sell you to the Horse-Hearted Lady!' Another pony, a blue roan, enthusiastically replied.

'What?' Snow Mask asked. She'd try to lie down, but with the hobbles and the tack, she couldn't. Tired and sore, she leaned against the tree that she was tied to. Dandelion shifted over as close he could to the hobbled mare to try and give her company. Hates Clovers was grateful as the two-leggers had picketed her as far from her partner in crime as they could.

'There's a lady at the Fair that has an ability to talk with us,' the roan continued. 'All the horses and ponies she buys she takes away from here.'

Snow Mask tried to keep up with the conversation, but she was exhausted, and fell asleep before the ponies finished regaling her herd mates with stories.

* * *

 _Once Daine reached the border of Tusain, she took her time. Abhorred at the idea, but knowing the cover would be perfect, Daine had a bundle of furs secured to the back of her saddle and a map with a few trap lines marked on it. Looking at it, she realized that the lines were closer to where Tortall, Galla and Tusain met. Smiling, the wildmage and her pony picked up the pace to try and reach the border town in less than a week._

" _I miss them, Storm," Daine confided in her pony, Cloud. They had decided to call her Storm, still like the aspect of the sky she was named for. "I didn't think it would be this hard."_

' _Your foal is still young,' the pony responded. 'Of course you'd miss her and the Stork-man.'_

" _I should pro'bly start askin' the local birds ta see if any of them'll take a message," Daine said softly as she fell asleep. Cloud whickered a goodnight and, after conferring with the local animals, fell asleep. A martin would wake her in a few hours._

 _The next day, Daine and Cloud ran into a flock of ravens. Smiling as the constable of birds let out a raucous noise in greeting and made a game of who could say hello when. She watched as two ravens cheated the game, somehow still within the rules, and landed on her shoulders._

' _We win! We win!' the one on her right shoulder declared. The raven on her left echoed the statement._

' _I'm M_ _ün!' The raven on her right said, while the bird on her left introduced himself, 'And I'm Hüg.'_

" _Nice to meet you both," Daine greeted, large smile on her face. She rode on as the two birds told her about their conspiracy and the ongoing game they had with a murder to the south of their territory. Their smaller cousins often lost to their more complicated games, but they had, last go around, won._

' _I think they cheated, personally,' Hüg whispered, only just interrupting_ _M_ _ün's story._

" _You both are very clever," Daine told them in all seriousness despite the smile still on her face. An idea suddenly struck the mage as the birds began talking to Cloud, the acerbic pony giving it more than she got while the ravens turned it into a game._

" _Since you both are very clever," Daine began, "I was wondering if you'd like to do a few tasks for me?"_

' _Tasks?'_ _M_ _ün asked._

' _What kind of tasks?' Hüg asked, head cocking in confusion and question in the way that only birds can do._

" _I have flock mates in the South," Daine began to explain. She told the two birds about the bad information Jonathan, her flock leader, was getting from his scouts, and how he had just recently realized it when other scouts gave conflicting reports. The ravens hissed in outrage at the blatant disrespect shown._

' _There can be no fun games with lies,' Hüg said. 'Tell us what you would have us do, and we will do it!'_

 _Daine pulled a rolled up parchment that she folded into as small a parcel as possible. "Cloud told you about the Stork-man. I need one of you to take this to him."_

' _Me! I will do it!' Mün volunteered, hopping back and forth on her shoulder. Once Daine held her palm flat, the large black bird launched from her shoulder to her hand, grabbing the report, before taking off into the sky heading South._

' _And what will you have me do, wing-sister?' the other raven inquired._

" _I need you to scout the immediate area for me," the wildmage told the bird. "two-leggers will think it strange you're with me though, so pretend you have difficulty flying and landing."_

' _Let the games begin!' Hüg declared, laughing as he took to the air, wobbling about as he flew._

 _Daine smiled, and hoped the turn of phrase wouldn't prove to be an ill omen._

* * *

The two-leggers removed all the tack they had put on her with the exception of the bit and bridle. They groomed her as well as they could without water to wash the dirt that was caked throughout her fur and even removed the burrs from her tail. After getting bridles on all the younglings, the two-leggers strung them together and split themselves around their string. Then they were marched. The two-leggers led them through winding trails and a few towns, picking up a few more ponies and a big draught horse on the way. They were picketed at the edge of a clearing for the night and Snow Mask and her herd mates were hobbled near each other, with herself tied to a tree again. At least Hates Clovers was next to her this time.

'I hate this,' she murmered to Hates Clovers. 'The younglings don't care because they're fed and protected. Hollyhocks don't care 'cause most of th' mares in this group will go inta season soon and he can scent that an' Dandelion's just scared a the change.'

'Cheer up,' Hates Clovers murmured as she nosed Snow Mask. 'Everything will work out.'

Hates Clovers words couldn't have been more true. In the morning, the two-leggers had removed all her tack with the exception of her bit and bridle and by the next afternoon, they were at the Fair in Cría. The two-leggers shoved them into a corral that only had a few ponies and a horse in it, and a grand stallion that thought too much of himself if one were to ask Snow Mask. She snorted and balked when they went to put her in the pen with the stallion. The rest of her new herd went right in. Hates Clovers waited for her, but a slap on her rump had her hurrying into the corral.

Snow Mask whinnied, dancing sideways. She was just starting her season and she didn't like the looks and croons the Stallion was promising. A slap on her rump only caused her to rear on her back legs and flail the air; her head bowed down with the force of the two-legger on her reins. Two of the two-leggers' friends pulled her down off her rear. She cried out again from a sharp tug on her bit.

They finally forced her into a pen with horses and ponies that she wasn't familiar with and didn't want anything to do with. Luckily, Hates Clovers was by her side. She was ready to fight any horse or pony that came near her. To Hates Clover's dismay, the Stallion didn't seem to care about the mood Snow Mask was in. Nostrils flaring, he zeroed in on her herd mate, and Hates Clovers by association, and trotted over, biting and whinnying to the rest to make way for him. Already angry for being captured and running on adrenaline, he made to mount Hates Clovers. She whinnied, attempting to deny him, and Snow Mask, defending her herd mate, bit the Stallion in his tender stomach.

The fight was something the Fair would talk about for years.

The Stallion immediately turned on Snow Mask, but the angry mare wasn't going to take anything the Stallion tried. He was only slightly larger than her, but Hates Clovers knew that her short attitude would make her equal to the Stallion. The two horses kicked, bit, and reared; punching each other with their front hooves. Any chance he could, the Stallion tried to mount her, which only incensed Snow Mask more.

A strange calm spread through the corral, but it only seemed to bring the violence marginally down.

"STOP THAT NOW!"

The yell and the power behind it made the two battling equines pause, flanks heaving from exertion. Snow Mask used the distraction to bite at the Stallions neck. He trumpeted surprise and pain before lashing at her with his front hooves.

"I SAID STOP!"

The two felt the power behind the words and, against their will, turned to look at the two-legger that dared to get between a boss fight.

She was very dark skinned, but had a shadow of copper fire flowing through her that Snow Mask felt a familiar kinship to however buried under a different color she couldn't quite make out. She whickered before sidling over to Hates Clovers. The Stallion, sulking, retreated to the back of the corral. Satisfied there wasn't going to be another fight, the strange two-legger stepped up to the corral.

"Now was that so hard?" she asked as she stroked Hates Clovers neck. "I have half a mind to buy you and your friend." Snow Mask snorted in derision at the Stallion being referred to as her friend. "Ok, so he's not your friend, but I know this lovely lady next to you is…"

The lady kept talking to them and even Hollyhocks came over from where he was showing off to a mare to listen to her. Dandelion looked less afraid of the world. She told of where she takes the ponies she buys in Cría, a place called Tortall that put images of purple and brown eyes into her mind. Shaking her head to dislodge the images, Snow Mask shook off a fly and continued to listen.

"…usually just bring ponies but there was a request for several horses along with the ponies I get and you all might be what I'm looking for." She smiled. "Tortallans like spirit in their animals." With that, she walked away to the corral guard, presumably to ask about them. The three horses looked at each other and ambled over to the draught horse who had been listening in.

* * *

 _It was only a week later that_ _Mün retuned with a letter. The small square of parchment startled all of them as, when Daine touched it, it grew to quite a large size. Smiling, Daine tore open the seal and looked through the various missives within. There was one from Sarralyn, scrawling and spidery as she learned to write. There was one from Numair that she ought to read before bed. Onua, Alanna, and even Tkaa, for Kitten, had written notes of varying lengths. The one from Jon was easily twice as long as anyone else's. Breaking the seal on the king's missive, Daine unfolded it and began reading._

 _Daine,_

 _The report you sent was very helpful. The maps will go a long way to update the castle's copies. I will have to send a group of the Own or the Riders to clear the washout you described sometime. George's reports say that there is a high number of bandits in that area, probably preying on the trap lines that haven't been used in years. Please keep this in mind while you check them._

 _I would like you to send a report every week. I believe that in this way a report will always be on its way to me with the way your friend flies. I was informed by the wall guards that they had seen a raven circling, dipping and diving for a day before it flew through a window and found Numair looking rather proud of her self._

 _George is running your information through his network, however I doubt there will be any discrepancies. You have never delivered false information in the past._

 _If you find any information that you feel needs to be sent immediately, please don't hesitate to send it rather than waiting for the weekly missive. I would rather you send another bird with the information so I can act more quickly than the regular report._

 _I can't impress on you enough that you need to work in caution. I would rather you be safe than hurt finding and sending information._

 _Thayet says hello and wishes you well._

 _Burn everything we send you._

 _King Jonathan of Conté_

 _Daine smiled and, following instructions, threw Jon's missive into her small cook fire. She read Numair's letter, smiling and getting teary eyed when he talked about Sarralyn. She threw that in the fire as well, as well as the rest of the letters from her friends she had received._

 _Grabbing a half written report, Daine began writing again. Once she was done, Hüg strutted over to grab the folded parchment._

' _Mün and I will be taking turns,' the raven informed her. 'I will make it to your southern nest faster than she did!'_

" _Makin' a game of it?" Daine said with a smile._

 _Mün scoffed, a harsh grating sound. 'I doubt you could!'_

 _Daine listened to them argue, making rules to some game they developed with the correspondents. Smiling as they finalized it, the two birds took to the branches of the large oak tree she was sheltering under. Morning came find only Mün there to greet her as she made breakfast on the smoldering embers of the previous night's fire._

* * *

"All right, lads and ladies!" The dark skinned horse woman called. A very large dog sat next to her who was vaguely familiar to Snow Mask, watching everything and scenting the wind. "The Fair is just about over. That means we're going to be heading out soon. We will be leaving Cría first thing in the morning. My name is Onua, and this will be your last picket in Galla."

True to her word, first thing in the morning, Onua had all the horses and ponies in two strings and, with her dog, who had introduced himself as Tahoi, moved them out as the grey light of dawn was starting to turn rose, heralding the sun. She just hoped that, without a helper, the ponies and horses especially didn't give her any trouble. Last year, Numair had helped her, all the while looking for Daine. He had wanted to come this year, but Jonathan had sent him spying to keep his mind off his missing wife. Thayet was watching Sarralyn when Jon sent him off, but more often than not, the girl was out on the Castle grounds, following in her mother's footsteps, talking with the palace cats and hunting hounds.

Thinking fondly of good times past, Onua took to the road.

When she picketed the horses for the night, she couldn't help but look towards the disturbance at the head of the line. The filthy buckskin was fussing; pulling on the tie out and dancing about. Sighing, Onua got up from the fire and walked over to the fussing mare. Placing her hand on the horses' neck, she expected the start.

"What's wrong, girl?" the K'mir asked. Floored by surprise, she received an image in her head that showed the mare lying next to her be the fire. Onua blinked rapidly, clearing the image from her eyes only to see blue eyes staring back at her. Shaking a feeling of déjà vu, the K'mir untied the horse and started leading it away when a concerned whinny broke the cricket noise. The buckskin turned back and gave a soft whicker that seemed to mollify the mare's concerned counterpart.

"You are very kind, horse," Onua complimented. She got a picture in her head of the horse turning her nose up at a soft patch of clover.

"She hates clover?" The other horse whinnied, seeming to agree.

"That's your name? Hates Clovers?" The horse bobbed her head up and down agreeing. Onua smiled and kept walking with her trouble making dun. "Thank you for the introduction." The dun whickered.

When they reached the fire, the dun laid down and seemed to invite Onua to lean against her. Repositioning her bedroll, she obliged the fussy mare. After doing a strange sitting thing, where Tahoi complained to her the whole time, the horse woman came back to herself. Settling down for the night, she gave Snow Mask a pat on her neck before falling asleep. Tahoi said he would take the first watch, so Snow Mask followed Onua into sleep.

 _She looked at the cob attached to a wagon. A strange sense of déjà vu ran thorugh her as a familiar voice informed, "You'll be driving Mangle here to Pirate's Swoop…" The image then changed to a handsome black and white spotted horse carrying a two-legger that also seemed familiar to her. There was a frightening picture of a creature with a two-legger torso, but bird body and shining metal feathers making up the wings…_

…" _Eat my arrows!" she called before shooting one of the abominable creatures._

" _Magelet?" A familiar voice called._

 _Brown eyes looked over the door of a stable…_

Snow Mask jolted awake.

Tahoi yawned the toothy yawn of all canines. 'Good. You're awake!'

The mare just shook herself best she could laying down with a two-legger sleeping on her. 'My turn?' she asked. Tahoi nodded and settled next to Onua for the night.

She watched the camp, the clearing ringing familiar to her but she wasn't sure from where. She knew her herd didn't roam this far south; preferring the goat trails for safety from predators and two-leggers.

The night passed quickly enough. Snow Mask talked to the owls and night birds that deigned to speak with a horse. It wasn't too long before the sky was pink in the East and Onua woke up and performed her morning ritual. They sun hadn't risen before the pickets were strings and they were off once again. This pattern continued for a week before they reached Corus; Tortall's capital. The stables they were led to were beautiful, and the horses in the pastures didn't complain about anything. Onua turned the rest of the string out, but kept her even as Hates Clovers protested.

"She's just going to be getting a wash!" Onua told her exasperated. "She'll be out in the pasture with you in less than half a candle mark!" Blowing and nervous, Onua ended up bringing the buckskin and Hates Clovers with her to the Head of the Stables.

"Stefan!" Onua called, turning a corner to see the man in question picking out a hoof of a beautiful chestnut. When he had put the beautiful red horse back in its stall, he turned and dropped the hoof pick.

"Horse Lords above, Onua!" he swore as he walked over. "Ya got these beauties from up North?"

The two mares seemed to preen under his attention as he ran his hands all over them. Onua laughed. "Indeed I did. I actually need a favour." Stefan raised an eyebrow as the K'mir continued. "This lady here," indicating Snow Mask, "needs a wash. Hates Clovers doesn't want to let her out of her sight; hence two horses instead of one."

"Hates Clovers, eh?" Stefan asked, taking the reins from Onua. The mare in question blew at him in greeting. "I can't hold the both of ye ta wash yer friend," the hostler informed the mare. "Ya al'right if I tie ya up right there?" He indicated where and the mare looked. She turned back to Stefan as he indicated where the washing would take place. The hostler dropped the reins, as Hates Clovers stepped over to where he was going to hitch her. Onua tied her up while Stefan led the buckskin a small distance away.

It took close to two hours to clean the other horse, who whickered and neighed in happiness of finally being clean. When she finally was, Stefan and Onua's jaws dropped. It was Stefan that spoke first.

"Horse Lords above! I ain't never seen a horse that shade," he breathed.

"Some desert horses can come close, but they rarely have that coloring," Onua replied.

Indeed, Snow Mask, finally clean, was a sight to behold. Her pale cream coat had slightly darker and lighter dappled spots, though not defined enough to be called a kind of appaloosa. Her socks were black at her hoof, but they diluted and faded out around her knees. Her mane was predominantly black, but had some cream at the base. Her mask covered her face to the point that both her eyes were a darker blue; the spots on her coat giving a dramatic look to her face.

The mare whinnied; exuberant at the feeling of being clean. Hates Clovers echoed the call.

It was at that time that Sarralyn entered the barn with a grey tom cat at her side. The tom cat, Birdy, had told her of Onua's return, and the two of them had raced to the barn to see the new ponies she'd brought in. She listened to the new ponies cautiously introducing themselves to the established herd, and smiled at their manners.

'Clean!' a happy voice cried. 'Feels soooo goood to be CLEAN!'

Smiling at Birdy, the two headed towards a barn that housed horses instead of the Rider ponies. Turning the corner, she froze at the sight of the horse. The mare was prancing she was so happy, wet as she still was from her wash. Another mare responded that she indeed, looked as good as she felt and pranced at her hitch.

"Oh Glory, you're beautiful!" Sarralyn breathed as she walked up to the mare. She ignored Onua's warnings about her violence, something her sellers were all to happy to regale her with. Sarralyn just placed her hand on the mare's soft pink nose and looked into the blue eyes in a white face; black fetlock between them. "Do you have a name?"

A picture came to Sarralyn's mind of winter, where the mare practically disappeared in the snow when she laid down, her face blending in to her surroundings.

"Snow Mask?" Sarralyn questioned, still stroking the mare's face.

'Yes,' came the reply from the horse. 'You are of the People?'

Sarrralyn smiled. "No. Just my Mama was very special."

Snow Mask was going to ask another question, but the girl ran over to Hates Clovers before coming back and unhitching her and declaring, "I am taking you for a walk and showing you off!" And before Onua or Stefan could say anything, the almost 5 year old had taken two magnificent horses due for war training out for a walk with a tom cat breaking the way.

Sarralyn led the horses by the pastures, introducing the herd and her Mama's pony, Cloud. "She's in time out because she's been mean," Sarralyn explained. "My Mama is hiding an' not no one can find her. It's why Cloud's in timeout and Papa is sad."

Cloud had looked up from her grazing by that time and, seeing the new horses at the fence, started trotting over to properly tell them off. Sarralyn kept talking to the horses about what she typically did during the day, waiting for Cloud to reach them. When a familiar dark figure turned the corner, Cloud started sprinting to the fence from the back of the pasture. Forgetting about the horses the way only children be forgetful in excitement, Sarralyn shrieked, "PAPA!"

A smile broke out on Numair's face, despite the worry and stress he was under. Grabbing the reins from his daughter's hands, he picked her up. "Thayet said you had escaped your minders again," Numair chastened. He knew that, like her mother, Sarralyn was going to do what she wanted; inheriting that northern stubborn that Dain had inherited from her Ma.

By that time Cloud had reached the fence and started putting up a fuss. Numair looked at her, clearly picking up on the pony's worry and panic. Turning to his daughter, Numair asked, "Sweetheart, what is Cloud saying?"

Sarralyn, worried now, listed to Cloud.

"Cloud says that Snow Mask is lying and needs to change back?" She turned to Numair. "Papa, what does Cloud mean? Snow Mask is a horse. What would she change into?"

The black robe mage, however, was looking more intently. "Remember when I was teaching you to see magic last week?" he asked his daughter, receiving a nod. "How bright is Snow Mask?"

Sarralyn looked again at the beautiful horse she was leading around the castle grounds. "Brightest I've ever seen, Papa," Sarralyn solemnly replied.

Numair frowned. "I had hoped you'd say something else, Sweet." He looked at the other horse. "Can you introduce her to Cloud? I want to look at Snow Mask here."

Lighting up, Sarralyn gave her father a beautiful smile as she took Hates Clover's reigns from her father. "Come on, Hates Clovers! Lemme introduce you to Cloud!" The mare, Hates Clovers, looked at Snow Mask who snorted, and the other mare, calm as anything, followed the young girl over to the fence, where she started introductions.

Numair gave Snow Mask a darkly curious look before heading back to the castle.

Servants plastered themselves to the walls and gave the mage horrified looks as he led the horse through the castle towards the king's study, sure that his expression was thunderous. When he knocked and entered before getting Jon's permission, the king was rightly surprised to find his best mage leading a horse of all things. Used to Numair's eccentricities, Jon blithely stated, "You have a horse with you."

Numair closed the door behind him. "This is not a horse."

Jon gave him a look as he called a page. "Bring Sir Alanna here at once. I don't care what she's doing. I need here now."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" The page ran out of the room.

* * *

 _When the regular report from Daine didn't come, Jon and Numair thought nothing of it, concerning though it was. The two men just assumed that Daine had gotten into a situation where it would blow her cover to send a report. Numair was sent out again to spy on the border of Scanra, his hawk form gliding away on the wind currents. When Numair's first report came in and Daine's, now overdue a month, still hadn't come, Jon was now worried._

 _When Numair returned from his expedition with bad news, of bandits and mercenaries mobilizing not too far from the border, Jon told Numair of the lack of reports from Daine. Alanna, who also was in Jon's office for the briefing, held the mage down while they discussed the situation._

" _The last report from her was about a castle a few days from_ _Cr_ _í_ _a that the animals in the area said had a person that was Gifted," Jon said, leafing through the reports that he kept in his desk._

" _But the animals couldn't identify the gift, not even the color!" Numair exploded. "I have a bad feeling about this!"_

" _Don't say that!" Alanna snapped. "You'll make it true!"_

 _Numair just put his head in his hands. Alanna looked imploringly at Jon. The two of them had to do something to help their friend. Jon sighed._

" _Numair," the mage looked up at Jon calling him, "go with Onua to the Fair in Cr_ _í_ _a to see if you can't find anything."_

 _Numair nodded. "I guess that's the only thing we can do right now."_

 _The King, his Chief Mage, and the Crown's Champion had no idea that they wouldn't see their friend for more than year._

* * *

Numair and Jon watched the horse. In the castle, it was obvious now how different the horse acted. Most animals would be nervous or startle at small things in an enclosed, unfamiliar place. The beautiful dun just looked about, a bit confused as if she should know where she was but didn't know how or why.

Another page brought refreshments and drinks, and Numair dove on the decantur of scotch and poured a snifter for himself. Jon poured himself some wine as they waited. The two of them were on their third drink when Alanna entered the room. Numair warded the room with his Gift, the black and silver magic not phasing the horse in the slightest. A raised eyebrow at the horse and lack of reaction, Alanna sat herself at the table and reached for the wine, asking "Why is there a horse here?"

"It's not a horse," Numair replied as he filled yet another snifter for himself.

Alanna put the wine down and reached for the whiskey. Taking a large mouthful, she asked, "What is it if," she leaned over the table to take a quick look at the animal, "she is not a horse? And where did she come from?"

Numair reached for a decanter of bourbon, pouring himself another glass. "Look at her," was all he said, before elaborating. "Onua just returned from Cría."

Alanna looked at the mare, drinking her drink, before Seeing something and coughing.

"Goddess," Alanna swore.

Numair put his head in his hands, drink forgotten on the table. Jon asked a page to get Thayet. The three of them looked at the horse, each lost in thought. All three had Seen the immense copper fire that denoted wild magic, Numair having taught them while Daine was still around and with Sarralyn after she had disappeared. Finally, Alanna broke the silence.

"Could Cloud help?" the Champion asked. "Didn't you tell me that one time we went drinking—"

"The only time we went drinking," Numair muttered too loudly to be to himself.

"—that she had problems with her magic after her family died?" She finished with a glare at the interruption. "Didn't you help her the first time she went to Pirate's Swoop?"

"What do you mean?" Jon asked. Thayet had the perfect timing to show up at that time. She looked at the horse, the liquor on the table, and her friends seated around the table.

"Onua told me," Thayet said, "she felt that, since, at the time, Daine worked for Onua and through her the Riders and myself, that Daine would get lost in her magic. Numair put a block in it so that she would always remember Daine as a person, and not one of The People."

"Well said!" Numair exclaimed, pouring another drink for himself. Throwing it back, he missed the concerned look Jon gave him. Looking the mage over more in depth, as Thayet engaged him in conversation about the finer points of what he did several years back; Jon had every right to be concerned. Numair had obviously lost weight, and it hadn't been a little; making the king wonder just how often his friend was eating. There were dark circles under his eyes that appeared lighter than he remembered when Numair gave his report this time around. Jon however, didn't know if it was due to passing out from exhaustion or actually choosing to rest.

"—we can't do anything until I take a look," Numair said as Jon came back to the present.

Everyone watched as the mage stood up and walked over to the mare that was sniffing at Jon's desk. She whickered a greeting when she caught sight of Numair, almost knocking him over when she thrust her head at him for pets. After a few moments of stroking her muzzle, the mage placed his hands on her cheeks. "I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable," he whispered as he delved into a mind consumed by fire.

Numair looked around and where the white self of Dain used to be, copper fire lashed everywhere. Stepping towards the entangled fire, he found the remnants of the spell he had crafted all those years ago.

" _Daine?"_ He called into the mindscape. _"Daine?! Love, where are you?"_

Nothing.

He stepped closer towards the fire. _"Magelet? Daine?"_

Numair paused in his calling. Had he hear something?

" _Veralidaine Sarrasri!"_

" _You know I said to call me 'Daine' for a reason,"_ came a distant, sleepy response. He heard the power in each word, his love unable to control her magic.

Numair had biggest smile on his face, _"Daine?"_

There was no response, but the lashing angry magic had calmed down. When Numair reached out to it, there was a contented noise, like a purr but a chirp but the happy whine of a dog; a mare snorting at her foal. Realizing Daine was a hostage of her own magic, let run rampant for as long as it had. Familiar with her magic, but knowing that as an outside force there would be headaches from his actions—necessary though they were, Numair set to work.

With all the adventures they'd survived through, regardless of the time they had spent apart, the Black Robe mage soothed the angry copper fire. Carefully, Numair gently redirected all he copper fire to flow away from the essence that was his wife, Veralidaine Sarrasri. With every copper fire groomed to flow the way it should, Numair felt a small victory.

He was getting tired. He couldn't tire.

Sometime later, as time passed differently here than in the room he had been in with Jon, Alanna and Thayet, Numair had finally cleared Daine's core essence of copper fire, her wild magic. Drawing on his own Gift, Numair chanted, drawing the arcane symbols again to block Daine's essence as hers; the daughter of Sarra and Weiryn, Wild Mage, his Magelet; a mother.

Numair opened his eyes and immediately regretted it.

His head was pounding something fierce, and the sharp stab of pain and subsequent moan had the shutters being closed and latched, the noise piercing his ears like a sword through butter.

"Drink this," Alanna's too loud voice instructed. Taking a sip, he gagged on the vile, horrid drink, but the hand helping his to drink it refused to pull away, forcing him to choke down the gods awful healing tea. The pounding in his head lessened and he didn't feel like a toy ship for a kraken anymore.

"Daine?" He croaked.

"We were just getting ready to wake her up," Alanna said as she shook a tiny vial in front of his face.

Numair grimaced, knowing the smell from his ventures with them in horticulture. They grew surprisingly well in his little greenhouse. The mage watched as Alanna walked over to Daine, who was lying on the floor. Someone had thought to cover her in a blanket as he himself was. He could hear Alanna take a deep breath as she uncorked the phial. It took longer than last time, but shortly thereafter Daine started coughing and gasping for air. The Lioness quickly replaced the cork and secreted the phial on her person.

Diane carefully sat up, holding her head in her hands, new scars Numair didn't remember decorating her body before another blanket was placed over her shoulders. She looked around through squinted eyes, confusion on her face. Alanna hurried over and forced a clay cup into her hands which, after a choke from Daine, was most likely the same concoction he was fed.

"How'd I get back her'?" She asked, Galla accent thick once more. "Wasn' I s'posed ta be spyin' in Galla?"

"Daine," Jon started, paused, before continuing. "What was the last thing you remember?"

Daine thought, speaking all the time. "I'd got a family o' raccoons ta help me with th' searchin'," she started. "Thought it right strange tha' the r'ports we'd receiv'd were completely wrong."

"Wrong?" Numair asked, concerned.

Daine nodded. "There weren't no animals, proper, see," she explained. "Just skunks and raccoons and the like mostly; Scavenger types. And they was complainin' about none others being' 'round."

"There weren't any predators either?" Thayet inquired, astonished.

"No, mum," Daine replied with a shake of her head. "There weren't hardly no stoats and minks ta help me neither. Lots'a ravens though, Hüg 'n' Mün helped with the deliverin', an' they made it a game, so they was most helpful."

Jon was going to ask a question, but stopped when Daine blanched. She turned to Numair. "Numair, he's not dead."

"Who's not dead?" the mage asked. There were a lot of people that should be dead that weren't that he could think of, but no one that wasn't dead that should be.

"The Red Mage," she continued, making Numair blanche as well. "It was a simul-thing! A copy!"

"What are you talking about, Daine?" Jon asked. But it was Numair that answered, and very reluctantly at that.

"Inar Hadensra," Numair said softly, almost as if saying the name would bring about the man who owned it. "I killed him in the Battle of Legann. The jewel is in my suite of rooms to prove it."

Daine shuddered. "I remember seeing that he saw me, Mün, that was the raven with me, gave the warning too late. He blew up the tree I had just left to hide behind some rocks on my way to the fort he was usin'. It was so big it coulda been a small castle! Before I knew it I wasn't the stoat no more, but me!"

"What happened after that?" Jon asked.

"I don't know," Daine replied. "I was so afraid. I threw the mage trap that Numair had sent me to help pr'tect me from Gift Mages, but he must have thought Numair'd come after him because he had a counter set up."

"A counter?" Numair asked, looking confused.

Daine just shrugged. "T'was wha' it looked like."

Alanna smiled at her country burr. She had always had an accent, but had managed to lose her drawl during the war. Being back in her country must have brought her old accent back. Thinking more on it, of course it had! How else was she supposed to fit in? She must have picked up some of the local vernacular for her accent was harsher than what she had had coming out of Snowsdale.

Daine, rubbing the side of her head, continued her story. "The birds came ta my fear when th' trap didn't work. I ran 'n' kept tryin' ta shift."

"You couldn't shift?" Thayet said, horrified.

Daine nodded. "There musta been a barrier of some kind. I was runnin' down th' hill when I felt the pressure. Hadensra was usin' his gift fer somethin'. Befor' I could cross th' treeline, a word I didn'a understand rang through th' area. There was light, the sound of shatterin' glass then pain." She grimaced. "Lot'sa pain, an' I was so scared. Next thin' I know, I'm here."

"You were a horse," Alanna said.

"A beautiful horse," Numair supplied. "Your mind must have retreated to the closest family group near you and forced you to shift."

"You joined a herd of wild horses," Thayet said.

"Oh Magelet," Numair said as he got off his chair and knelt next to her on the floor, pulling her into an embrace. They sat like that for a while, Numair tucking her head to his chest, Daine basking in his warmth and affection.

Watching the mages reunite, Alanna turned to Jon and Thayet and asked the question that no one wanted to ask.

"So what are we going to do now with this new development?"

* * *

 _posted 16September2016_


End file.
